


R E P E T I C I Ó N

by AkireMG



Series: Borradores Gallavich [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Ian Gallagher, F/M, Intersex Female Alphas, Intersex Male Omegas, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, No Betas in this Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Work In Progress, also english is not my first language so there are for sure a lot of errors, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkireMG/pseuds/AkireMG
Summary: Mickey is an Omega.Ian is an Alpha.Their family promised them to each other since the day Ian was born and they fell in love as teenagers.But it's not that easy.
Relationships: Frank Gallagher/Monica Gallagher, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Terry Milkovich/Nataliya Milkovich
Series: Borradores Gallavich [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584502
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	R E P E T I C I Ó N

**Author's Note:**

> So. A long time ago, I wrote a piece with Jerome/Mickey as the main pairing and Ian as the sad sad third. Well, I wanted to do something similar with Ian/Mickey and the Valeska twins doing what they do best: being bad. And this is the result. It's not finished. Probably wit will never be, but it's quarantine time baby, and I'm bored,s o here it is.

Mickey was Terry and Natalya’s only Omega child, born among guns and blood, money, pride and death, family, union and loyalty; raised to use all of that to his advantage and become a man like his grandfather, Panas Milkovich, mother of three Alphas, the head of a family that almost crumbled to pieces after his husband, Symona Biletskyy, was murdered because of her father's debt.

Panas took his children (Terry still a vague idea in the back of his mind) and left Ukraine to start fresh on America, far away from the people that would've killed his oldest, then shy of ten-years-old, just to show him what happened to the people that didn't pay back; it didn't matter that Panas hated his father-in-law, that Symona hadn't been on speaking terms with him for almost five years when she was shot by a man that would eventually be caught and tortured by Mickey's father, his uncle and aunt.

Panas wasn't a bad man. He didn't let anyone walk over him, treat him like they so wrongly treated Omegas on the States. The first time he killed, it was to protect his newborn from an Alpha that thought Panas would gladly get rid of his children to marry again.

After that, he slowly but surely made a name for himself. He had Symona's brother, Danylko, by his side, full of anger and resentment against his own father for letting his sister pay for something she didn't have anything to do with. He told his niece and nephews about their father, the wonderful woman she was, how much she loved their mother until the day she died. Mickey's father grew up thinking about a land he never knew, a parent he loved but couldn’t meet, and a faceless man he'd kill one day after calling him ‘ _дідусь_ ’.

Panas died when Mickey was eleven, his fiery eyes having a hard time focusing on Mickey's when he told him in that soft voice of his that he had his husband's eyes and heart.

"You have always reminded me of her, Mikhailo. Loyal. Loving. Determined." He caressed Mickey's cheek, his fingers cold and thin, but so tender Mickey drew closer, wanting his touch, needing the calming scent of his fragile skin. "Your father can be stubborn, sure that what he says is always right, but you are smart, are you not? You see that. Do not let him decide for you. If he tries, tell him how I always supported him even when I thought he was making the wrong decision. Make him see that you and your siblings are different than him, your uncle and aunt. Do not let him forget that, my love. And do not forget it yourself."

He kissed his forehead, told him to go back to his mother and asked him to send Mandy in. He was saying goodbye to all of them. Uncle Sy hated every moment of it, adamant that his mother still had many more years to live, that the doctors were all wrong about the graveness of his illness.

"That child," Panas shook his head smiling. "He will cling to my memory like he did to his father's. He was a sensible child since birth. Always feeling things deeper than most..."

It was not a week later that Mandy came into Mickey's room crying, saying " _бабуся_ " over and over until her tears chocked her and she began to sob. Mickey held her until his mother took her from his arms. Nataliya had tears in her eyes, too, and Mickey wondered how his father, uncle Sy and aunt Vas were taking it.

He saw for himself the next day during the funeral. His uncle's eyes were red, swollen, and he was silently crying while aunt Vas hugged him. Terry gave the speech, voice deep and solemn, every bit the strong, straight-faced Alpha Mickey had seen his whole life.

His father wasn't one to show much emotion. Aunt Vas told Mickey it was because he was born after their father's death, when their mother had too many concerns and anxieties to let his youngest be anything but a brave boy who could take care of himself if it ever came to it. He wasn't emotionless or unfeeling, he just learnt to hide it all until the right moment, when there wasn't anything else to take care of.

The months following Panas' death were a bit strange for everyone. Panas was a very active man, never staying put for long, his mind looking for any sign of danger, every little opportunity to expand the family business, listening to the whispers and keeping them secret until they were useful. Not having him around affected everyone, but they all made peace with it eventually.

Surprisingly, uncle Sy was the first to talk about him without tearing up. His grief still lasted years, but by the time Mickey was fourteen, he was telling stories about Ukraine, his mother's awful cooking, his quirks and habits. Aunt Vas was smiling brightly, nodding along, her wife (Nora Cruz) passing her the little, rose-cheeked, pouting kid that was Mickey's cousin, Palahna. She was the first Milkovich Omega to be born after Mickey. Everyone was overjoyed when the sex was revealed when Nora was four months along.

Milkoviches rarely were Omegas, even less female Omegas. Mickey was the only one among his five Alpha siblings. Panas was also the only one in his generation. Palahna was a rarity. A cherished one. The day she was born, aunt Vas looked so happy, so proud, uncle Sy teased her endlessly even though he was ecstatic as well. Mandy, just like them, loved Palahna immediately. She didn't have any sisters, and Mickey wasn't as fond of dresses and dolls as her when they were younger, so she spent her time playing with Palahna, gifting her the dolls she loved the most, dressing her up as if Palahna were a doll herself.

"Princess!", Palahna corrected Mickey every time she heard him call her doll. At ten years of age, she already took no shit from anyone. She wasn't a pretty little doll, she was a princess, a Queen, an Omega. She was 'like grandma Pan' and nothing less. "I am a princess, Mickey! I rule here!"

And that she would do one day, after her parents and cousins and uncles, when Mickey's daughter makes clear where her loyalty lays, Lip's son discovers the truth behind his birth and Fiona's children decide this type of life isn't for them. That day, Mickey's glad she's head of the family and that her only child claims allegiance only to her, just like Terry, Sy and Vas did with Panas until his very last day and even beyond.

Family is what they were, the sole reason and drive of them all, and Mickey and Palahna were Milkovich Omegas, born and raised to be everything Panas would be proud of, to protect and make prevail all the things he stood for since he was a child.

Mickey laughed sardonically when Palahna told him that (again) when he was in labor, drenched in sweat and holding onto his nightstand's corner for dear life. The contractions had him in such pain, he barely had the mind to not say anything until the nurse assisting his midwife exited the room quietly.

"Oh yeah, he would be proud I'm keeping alive the Milkovich tradition of giving birth in our own fucking bedrooms."

The next contraction made him want to scream and kick until it was over, but he kept it all inside, his nails leaving moon-shaped indentations on the dark wood of the nightstand. When he could breathe normally again, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and turned his head to see Palahna. She was just fifteen, way too young to be burdened with Mickey's and Ian's secret, but so sure about her stance, grey eyes big with worry and decision, Mickey felt even worse than before for putting her in this kind of situation. Only Mickey and Ian were supposed to know.

"You better fucking think twice before having children, Ana. It sucks."

"That’s what you've been saying for the last few months," Palahna shrugged. "Grandma did it, our mothers did it, you are doing it and I will, too. We may be rare, but we Omega Milkoviches are good mothers. We don't chicken out of it."

"Yeah, there's no other option at nine months pregnant, Ana, so fucking think about it before doing something so fucking stupid."

"I want you to say that again when my niece is here."

Mickey for sure didn't say it again. His baby was too little, beautiful and important for him to even try to talk when the midwife put her in his arms. She was healthy, strong, an Alpha like Mickey knew from the start she would be. There hadn't been another Omega in his family since Palahna, and Mickey had the feeling there wouldn't be another for a long time.

Not that it mattered. Not that he cared at all. His baby was his priority, the only thing in his mind during the following days and weeks. He didn't let just anyone come near her, always cradling her against his swollen chest, feeding her, talking to her, memorizing her scent and solidifying their bond.

He had been nesting for months, and now that his nest was finally full, there was little else he could bring himself to care about. Because of this, he was grateful for Ian. His Alpha was nothing if not caring and understanding, asking if he needed anything else, if there was something he didn't like about their nest, since he was the only person Mickey allowed to enter and stay.

"I thought you would let Palahna and Mandy in," he said a week after Vitaly was born, his fingers caressing the baby's soft tummy in circles. She was fast asleep, lulled by her mother's scent and Ian's careful voice surrounding her. "I was expecting to sleep on the couch, actually," he smiled at Mickey, his eyes shining, the tiredness clear as day on his whole face.

He had been very stressed the weeks before Vitaly's birth. Months, to be honest. They both were since before their wedding, when they feared Mickey would start to show long before he was supposed to. Ian scented him constantly trying to make sure no one could smell the increasing pregnant hormones his body was releasing. It worked in the end, but the whole process was maddening, more stressful than anything before in their lives. It shouldn't have been that way. The wedding and bonding and pregnancy should have been so very different, happier, expected and not dreaded.

"You're the only one that feels right in here," Mickey said placing his hand above Ian's on Vitaly's stomach. Ian's face softened, all his worries and regrets unimportant if only for a moment. "I never wanted anyone else here, Ian. I never will."

And neither would Vitaly with her icy blue irises, long curled red hair and pale freckled skin. She was a sight to behold, more beautiful than fairy-tale princesses and Queens, with a heart too big not to be shattered and an unwavering sense of self that'd put her through the worst moments of her life. Some of which were caused by her own parents; who devoted as they were, made as much mistakes as any. Vitaly's pain would turn into Mickey's biggest remorse and Ian's more shameful failure. But for now, while she was a baby and slept peacefully, Mickey and Ian could only feel relieved.

They were safe at least, far from the people that wanted to harm them; they never said those names out loud, not wanting Vitaly to be exposed to anything related to them, or their employees to get any idea about why they moved and changed their lives like they did. Their marriage and first born had to be the center of attention, not any of the reasoning behind it.

They fact that they were betrothed since Ian was born helped them greatly. Also, that they had been dating long before Mickey had his first heat, something not as usual for families like theirs. Arranged marriages were almost a daily occurrence, but courting didn't tend to happen before heats and ruts. But the Milkoviches and Gallaghers had been waiting for an opportunity to unite their families since Terry and Frank Gallagher met and started doing business together.

Some expected them to get married, but Frank was swept off his feet by Monica and Terry fell in love with Nataliya on Ukraine and then their firstborns, Fiona and Tony, were both Alphas; and their seconds, Joey and Philip, weren't compatible. When Nataliya got pregnant again with Colin, Frank took a break from the 'bring a whole baseball team to the world' thing and a chance didn't present itself again until Mickey and Ian, born a year and a month apart, Alpha and Omega, compatible in every way imaginable. Circumstances made possible more interaction between them, a childhood with shared memories and side-by-side growth.

Mickey went through his first heat eleven months before Ian's first rut. He was fourteen, a little late when compared to most Omegas, and completely aware of what would happen. His mother had been explaining it all to him since he turned ten. She expected him to be an early bloomer like herself. Mickey was lucky. He even had time to research in depth before the first signs started to show.

Still, nothing can prepare you for how it feels. The first one is a variable experience for everyone, doesn't matter how similar. Mickey felt sensitive all over, his skin responsive to every little touch, his insides warm and constricting, wetter with every passing second, his slick running down his thighs and between his buttocks to the point he took three showers and soaked a towel trying to prevent his mattress from getting ruined. The second day it started to subside, the only source of discomfort being the cramps, sensible nipples and genitalia. By the third it was almost gone, but it wasn't until the fifth that Ian was allowed into the house again.

Things were different after Mickey's first heat, but not in a bad way. Mickey's senses were stronger, sharper, his body running a little warmer, now perpetually hyperaware of some areas of his anatomy like his matured bonding gland. Ian's scent was more distinguishable than before, reaching Mickey's nose the moment he set foot inside the Milkovich house.

Mickey couldn't contain himself when Ian (fucking finally) entered his bedroom and closed the door. Ian felt so good against his body that the discomfort of his heat seemed even worse now knowing the Alpha could have been there with him, for him; those long, thin fingers filling him, his soft mouth trailing down his neck and stopping to kiss and suck right where the bonding bite would be found in latter years.

"You're so wet, Mick, my fingers keep slipping out," Ian murmured on his ear, whole body pressing Mickey down on the mattress. He was hard, heavy breathing, near desperate for release, but he paid no attention to his own needs, concentrated on discovering every change and using it to bring Mickey all the pleasure he could. "You smell like... God, Mickey," a strangled moan escaped his throat, raw and needy, hips rutting against Mickey's thigh helplessly.

His fingers were thrown out of rhythm for a few seconds before moving faster, harder, the heel of his palm adding external stimulation that was enough to tip Mickey over the edge, legs trembling and nails digging into Ian's back. The sounds he made took them both by surprise, and Ian was coming in his pants before even processing them.

Mickey came soaking Ian's hand to the wrist. The amount of slick he was producing was impressive, but not unexpected. He was in full heat less than five days ago, after all, and his Alpha was here now, touching him, biting his skin here and there, telling him how good he felt. Mickey loved it. Him. The feeling of his hard cock, his wet hand touching Mickey everywhere he could reach, his breathy voice promising to stay for the night so they could explore and enjoy the changes for hours.

Ian discovered spots on Mickey's skin where his scent was particularly potent, one below his ear, the other on his lower back, right where those dimples Ian loved so much were. So sweet. So good. Ian wanted to bury himself in it, be so deep inside it'd never leave his skin again. But it would wear out eventually, so he drank it instead. Put Mickey's thighs on his shoulders, held his hips, and collected every drop of slick he could with his tongue and lips, taking it all in greedily until it was everything he could taste and smell. That's all he wanted. His Mickey. His Omega asking, moaning, offering the new parts of himself Ian would later match with his own.

Alphas couldn't knot before rut. And now Mickey needed it, wanted it, was ready for it. But Ian couldn't. Not yet. So, his fingers. Three of them. Four. Keeping him full and writhing for what felt like hours. Not enough. Ian didn't have the same urges. He wanted Mickey, yes, but it couldn't be compared. Mickey’s Omega had bloomed while Ian's Alpha was still making its way to the surface, slowly changing him from the inside out to respond and complement Mickey. The unity. What nature intended.

When Ian snapped at Mandy for standing too close to him, Mickey knew his rut was closer than they thought. She was his friend, younger for just a month and a half, and never Ian had done something similar. Mandy hadn't had his first rut either, so her instinctual response was to submit. Mickey's brothers didn't like it one bit, especially Tony, but they understood and accepted Ian’s apology right away.

“You need to talk to your doctor, Ian,” Mickey told him later the same day. “She told you it would be four more months, right?”, Ian nodded. “That doesn’t seem like four whole months to me. Talk to her. Tell her about any changes you’ve noticed.”

And just like Mickey thought, Ian was actually a few weeks away from his rut. They weren’t allowed to be alone anymore. Mickey was taking his birth control religiously, but that didn’t change his scent at all, just regulated his cycle, and Ian was going a little crazy because of that. His Omega’s scent, sweet, fertile and _wanting_ -

“Ian. Hey, Ian. Ian!”

Ian blinked.

He was holding Mickey in his arms. Tightly. Too much so. His mouth, his _teeth_ , pressing down on his neck, his bonding gland. It would be pointless. Mickey had to bit him too for the bond to be completed, and Ian’s bonding gland hadn’t matured yet. But Ian wanted to. Break the skin. Taste the blood. Feel Mickey squirming, pulsing, asking him to-

“Gallagher!”

Suddenly, Mickey wasn’t between his arms anymore, and Ian’s face was being smashed against the floor, Tony hovering over him, teeth bared, a growl rumbling on his chest. Mickey was his only Omega sibling, after all, and not even Mandy would’ve let Ian treat him like that. Alphas in rut, especially their first, tend to be violent when separated from their mates, so no one was surprised when Ian growled back at Tony and tried to fight him off to get to Mickey again. Of course, he didn’t stand a chance against an older, stronger Alpha like Tony, and ended up with a black eye before Fiona came to take him home.

“You could’ve easily restrained him, Tony, you’re twice his size,” Fiona wasn’t happy to see his little brother's face bruised. Ian was inside the car already, the doors and windows securely locked. He was on the phone with Mickey, who was banned from leaving his bedroom until Ian was back at his own house. Neither of them was very thrilled by the prospect of not seeing each other for at least the next two weeks, but couldn’t do much against their Alpha siblings' command.

“We’re the oldest and Alphas, Fiona,” Tony shrugged. “All I did was protect my brother from a blooming Alpha, and yours from doing something he would’ve regret.”

Ian wasn’t usually like that, but until he grew accustomed to the changes he was going through, it was on them to make sure no one would be harmed. Tony didn’t expect Ian to be such a forceful Alpha. His personality didn’t match the intensity of his symptoms and the way he had been behaving for the last few months.

“Yeah, I know”, Fiona ended up accepting. “And I’m sure he didn’t help his case lashing out at you. I’ve seen how he gets sometimes. Even Lip has kept his distance.”

“Lip?”, Tony said, gob smacked. “He’s his older brother. His _Omega_ older brother! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Lip is just being cautious. Ian hasn’t acted up or anything. He respects Lip and his place as his older brother. It’s just the pre-rut. You know how hard it can be to some people. Besides, you and I didn’t have a mate when we went through ours. We don’t know how different that really is.”

That was a good point. Still, Tony made clear what would happen if Ian didn’t get the guidance necessary to help him with the mood swings if they didn’t get better after his rut. He wasn’t going to have any Alpha trying to challenge him no matter the reason. His father counted on him to look after his siblings. Like Fiona, his job as Alpha was to keep his family safe, something both his mother and father had been teaching him how to do since he was old enough to understand the basics of the world they lived in.

“Is Mickey alright?”, Fiona asked then, fearing Ian did more than only, in his words, bite Mickey _a little bit_.

“Yeah. Ian didn’t do any real damage. His neck will bruise, and he’ll be pissed at me for a while, but nothing more.”

Fiona let out a silent sigh and nodded, relieved.

“That’s how they react to us when we go between them and their mates,” she shrugged remembering how Lip didn’t talk to her for an entire week after Fiona sat his first “girlfriend” down to make sure she understood Lip wasn’t hers to do as she pleased; not that the poor girl had been planning to, it was just prevention. “I'll take Ian home. Call me if there’s any issue with Nataliya or Terry.”

“Oh, there'll be, but Mickey won’t let it escalate to the point our parents will want to talk to yours. Don’t worry about it.”

True to that, Mickey pacified his mother's displeasure and his father's mild annoyance telling them about what Ian's doctor said about his incoming rut. It wasn’t ideal, but none of it was on purpose, just particularly hard for the young Alpha to control. Nataliya didn’t stop being worried until Mickey's neck healed and Ian's first rut passed with not a single problem that wasn’t anticipated.

Three weeks after his black eye, Ian was cleared to enter the Milkovich home again. He apologized to Tony, tried to convince Nataliya that what happened was a one-time thing and then kissed Mickey like he had been dying of thirst and the Omega's mouth was his only source of water.

He felt different after those hellish days of fever and unsatisfied desires he spent locked inside his bedroom, fucking into his own fist until his cock felt sore and he was whimpering through the painful experience that was forming a knot for the first time.

It was then, curled up beneath his sheets, cold after the first overwhelming wave of heat passed, that Ian understood what Mickey had told him about his heat: they knew everything practical that there was to know about it, but nothing could prepare you for how it actually feels. It goes beyond the physical changes. Reality itself acquires a new meaning because your mind can understand it from a previously unknown perspective. Instinct, perhaps, but Ian thought it was something else. Something bigger. Greater. More beautiful and softer than the simplistic and crude descriptions biology books were made of.

“Missed you, Mick,” he said, his mouth searching for his boyfriend's neck, that spot where his teeth ached to bite into. But it wasn’t time yet. He was fourteen, Mickey only fifteen, and they both had still so much to learn and live before thinking of bonding and marriage. Which didn’t mean Ian wasn’t already planning his future with Mickey or thinking about a house, children and two or three dogs. “Feels like more than a few weeks since I last saw you.”

“Tony refused to let you in until now and my dad agreed with him,” Mickey said pressing a kiss on Ian’s forehead and running his fingers through his hair. Ian’s smell had changed. More defined, characteristic in a way it hadn’t been before his rut. Mickey inhaled deep and slow, noting the differences, and memorizing Ian’s scent once and for all. It wouldn’t change anymore. His Alpha had bloomed; Mickey couldn’t be happier to have him here between his arms. “He’s an asshole.”

“No, he’s just looking out for you. I get it,” Ian would’ve done the same, if not worse, for Lip, Debby and Liam. “I acted like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Mickey shook his head and took Ian’s hand in his. “We knew you were having a hard time during your pre-rut. I wasn’t using the scent blockers that day. It was my fault, too.”

Mickey would repeat that many more times the following years. Ian’s hard time with his first rut wasn’t a once-only thing. In fact, it got worse his next rut. Aggressive, impatient, restless and irritable. Sometimes he couldn’t even stand the sound of his own breathing. More than once he snapped at Mickey, his _mate_ , when he tried to comfort him after a particularly bad day. With time it became clear something wasn’t right. _Ian_ wasn’t right.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Tony,” Mickey hissed at his brother the first time he heard him suggest that. Tony looked at him with dark eyes, surprised and insulted by Mickey’s open defense of Ian. “There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just getting used to it. He had his first rut less than two months ago, for fuck sake. Give him a break.”

But then two more months went by, and Ian wasn’t getting better. Now, when his rut ended, he didn’t want to get out of his bed, and it was a struggle to convince him to eat. He just laid there, motionless, silent, a ghost of the boy he used to be. Mickey was scared. Seeing Ian like that was nerve-wrecking, fucking terrifying because it felt as if Ian would just disappear, like he could stay in his bedroom until he died.

“I’m still hoping I’m wrong,” Monica whispered the third day after Ian’s rut. Mickey had tried to get a response out of him only to be yelled at. It wasn’t a great feeling, being told to fuck off by your mate, but Mickey had been expecting worse, so he took a deep breath and left Ian alone.

“About what?”

Monica looked inside Ian’s bedroom for a minute before signaling Mickey to follow her to the first floor of the Gallagher house. He didn’t like her attitude, somber and serious when she was more of a bright and warm, if a little stern, presence. Everything felt wrong, and Mickey was tired after a long night of restless sleep.

“I can’t be sure, Mickey, but I think Ian…”, she paused, unsure, and closed her eyes as if trying to keep herself grounded. Mickey reached for her in a second. He put his hand on her arm trying to help her soothe. She has known him his whole life. He was familiar, and that seemed to be what she needed, because her breathing got lighter, and then she said, “You know about Elisa, right?”

Mickey did. Elisabeth had been Monica’s little sister. Mickey got to know her before she died. He remembered how sweet she was, how much she cared, and how easily she came and went like she followed the wind. Caring, but absent for weeks, months even. Once, when she came back from whenever she went to, she took Ian for a ride that ended up wreaking havoc. She took four-year-old Ian for a whole week. When Monica and her people found them, Ian was burning up in fever, and Elisa wasn’t allowed to spend much time with her sister’s children anymore. She did when Mickey was ten. Ian felt her death deeply. Until now, except form the anniversary of her passing, Mickey rarely has a thought about her.

“Yeah,” he said to Monica. “Why are you mentioning her?”

Monica shook her head.

“You don’t. Not really.”

Mickey looked at her with his brows furrowed. He took his hand off her arm.

“What do you mean?”

“How she died.”

Mickey wasn’t one to ask those kinds of questions to a grieving family.

“I still don’t know how that has anything to do with Ian stating in bed for-“

“She was sick.”

Yeah, Mickey had figured as much. It was so sudden back then, that many suspected she had been dying for a while and the Gallagher had kept it a secret.

“And…”, Mickey urged her to elaborate, more confused with each passing second.

“I think Ian is, too.”

Mickey’s heart beat painfully. Elisa has died so unexpectedly it surprised everyone. She hadn’t look sick. If Ian- Oh God.

“What? Why haven’t you told his doctor anything about it then?”

“I have. They know what happened to Elisa.”

Fuck no. Thee dread on Mickey’s chest was replaced by anger so fast it felt as if it never existed.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything? It’s been months, Monica. What the fuck were you waiting for?! For him to get fucking worse?!”

“It’s complicated, Mickey, I-“

“What’s so complicated about telling me my boyfriend might be sick?!”, Mickey was angry beyond words. He was exhausted, confused, _scared_ , and now Monica was saying this, that Ian (his future fucking husband) was probably going to follow his aunt in her fate. He was not going to let that go easily. But there were more important matters, and he needed to know. “What is it?”

Monica sighed and looked at Mickey with something that felt like pity. Fucking pity. Mickey almost lashed out at her, but then he saw tears in her eyes.

He had never seen Monica Gallagher cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
